


Operation Lunatic

by like_giants



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First War with Voldemort, M/M, and state brutality, cw for arrest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/like_giants/pseuds/like_giants
Summary: Remus and Sirius are living together after Hogwarts. One night, the Ministry take Remus away for being an unregistered werewolf. The Marauders have to find a way to get him back, and Sirius must confront how he really feels about Moony.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	1. Sirius

It happened late at night, as these things usually do. Sirius was curled against Remus, with his dark head resting in the triangle of space between Remus’ shoulder and the sharp line of his jaw. He could see the spidery outline of Remus’s hand and the way his arm was splayed out in a long wiry line, almost to the edge of the bed. 

He felt strange. Not bad strange, not the prickle of fear and panic that had visited him late at night almost since he could remember. This was something different, new, even. It was, he decided, something he associated with being Padfoot, coming in from the snow at the end of a full moon and curling up by the fire. Exhaustion, perhaps. Like the feeling of a prank well done. Perhaps this was how James felt when he’d collapse on his bed after winning a Quidditch match and tell the rest of them to shut up, you’re ruining the moment. 

Sometimes it struck him, in moments like these, that if you had told ten year old Sirius he would be living with a werewolf who he sometimes slept with and sometimes made pasta with, fighting a war straight out of school against the Dark Lord and his own brother, he would have laughed and called you a... well, something he couldn’t say anymore. Sometimes the impossibility of his life twisted something sharp and painful inside of him, but right now it seemed faintly amusing and somehow removed, a context that existed far beyond the horizon of Remus’ hand at the edge of their bed. His head on Remus’ shoulder, Remus breathing softly against him, this drowsy Padfoot feeling, it left no space for a thought like that. 

Sirius let his eyes close and slowed his breathing, aligning the gentle rise and fall of his chest with Remus’ body behind him and reaching a hand out to – BANG. The crack of twenty apparitions at once thrust him back into consciousness. Sirius startled and lunged for his wand as black robed figures rushed towards him from the edges of the room. He could tell without looking that Remus was alert beside him. The thought of being killed here, in this bed, and being found in the green glitter of a Dark Mark by some old hands from the Order filled him with such fury that he was already up, slashing with his wand at the closest Death Eater’s pale face. 

His pale, unmasked face. 

“Sirius.” Remus’ hoarse voice was quiet. 

Sirius looked at Remus. His face was completely closed. 

“Sirius”. Sirius lowered his wand, feeling his understanding of the situation slide away like smoke. 

“You don’t want this, John.” 

It took a moment for Sirius to work out that Remus was addressing one of the strangers. It was the man closest to the foot of the bed. He was tall, with a lopsided mouth and a familiar face.

“I’m sorry Remus”, the tall man replied. “It will be easier for everyone if you come quietly.” 

Understanding flooded Sirius like icy water. The man was John Dawlish, a Ravenclaw a couple of years older than they were. He’d seen Remus with him occasionally in the library. James had written to him about becoming an Auror when he was Head Boy. Which meant…

“I’m going to read you your rights.” A witch to Sirius’ left spoke. What rights? What had they done? Did the Ministry know about the Order? 

“Remus John Lupin, the Ministry of Magic is hereby placing you under arrest on suspicion of being an unregistered werewolf. Under Regulation Twelve of the Dangerous Creatures Act, all werewolves are required to register with the Werewolf Registry. Failure to do so is a criminal offence carrying a custodial sentence. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say can and will be used as evidence in any subsequent criminal proceedings.”

A pause stretched like glue. Understanding and fury lit themselves in Sirius’ belly. The eyes of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad glittered in the moonlight. Sirius tried to catch Remus’ eye, to let him know he wouldn’t let them take him, but Remus’ face had taken on the stony disinterest that Sirius had long ago come to associate with impending doom. 

He saw, out of the corner of his eye, the wizard on the extreme left of the group give a tiny nod. 

As one, Remus and Sirius raised their wands. 

Stupefy. 

Dawlish collapsed backwards and the room filled with smoke from Remus’ wand. Sirius grinned despite himself at their synchonicity and felt Remus grab his shoulder firmly from behind, twisting them into apparition. 

SLAM. Sirius felt himself hit a wall. He collapsed onto something soft. A moment of confusion. It was a bed. His bed. The Aurors must have thickened the air in advance. 

Sirius felt panic rise in his throat. He groped blindly through the smoke towards Remus. His hands found Remus beside him on the bed. Sirius could see a splash of red. He cupped Remus’ face and his hand came away wet. His nose was bleeding, shockingly red down his chin. A curse whizzed past his ear, singing his hair. Sirius cast a shield charm as curses from the obscured aurors shot at them from all angles.

He nodded at the window. Remus shook his head. Too risky. He was right, their flat was on the thirteenth floor, and there was no telling how far the charm extended.   
I’ll cover you. Sirius mouthed the words. He knew Remus wouldn’t like it, but a reluctant nod gave him the answer he needed. As one they moved for the door, Sirius firing curses off behind him as Remus kept up their shield charm. He heard Remus open the door. Then, a barely audible gasp, a screamed curse and a thud as Remus hit the floor.

Sirius ducked more curses and crawled towards Remus, sticking the door behind him. Remus was struggling weakly against the ropes that had appeared around him, but his gaze was slack. Confunded.

Sirius roared in anger and slashed his wand at Remus’ attackers. Two more bodies hit the floor, stunned. They must have hidden in the hall. He picked Remus, who was looking up at him helplessly, up in his arms and went for the main door as fast at Remus’ weight would let him. Then something caught at his heels and he was falling in the dark, feet glued painfully to the floor. He snarled and cut Remus free with his wand.

“Run.” 

Remus looked at him listlessly. A flicker of recognition dawned in his eyes, followed by hurt and confusion.

“Remus, run. You have to get out of here.”

But Remus just reached a hand out to him, pressing the lightest of touches to Sirius’ browbone. This time it was his hand that came away bloody. Rage and tenderness roared inside Sirius. And then a black clothed figure had his hands under Remus’ shoulders and was dragging him away and there was nothing Sirius could do but watch.

“Sirius!” Remus’ voice was faint, but he heard it. Sirius kept his eyes locked on Remus. I’ll come and get you. I won’t leave you there. Remus’ eyes, normally so keen, were hazy with confusion as he was dragged round the corner. There was a crackle in the air like the moment before lightning, then a volley of pops as the Aurors apparated away. Sirius jumped to his feet the second the spell broke and sprang round the corner. But it was too late. Remus was gone. 

***

It took several hours for the reality of the situation to dawn on Sirius. He had screamed curses at the vanished aurors, downed half a bottle of firewhisky in an attempt to numb the wave of panic rising up in him. The bedroom door was covered in soot and singe marks. Looking at it hurt, so he took his bloodied hand and hit it. That felt better, so he beat the shit out of it until neither his hands nor the door resembled their previous state. 

The light was coming through the bedroom window, through the ruined door and into the ruined hall. With it came sober thoughts, sensible thoughts like don’t be stupid and you need to get help, so Sirius fumbled to the living room, scribbled a note to James and pitched it out the window with a whispered spell. The note seemed to have awoken emotions to go with the facts, and the reality of Remus’ absence began to press at the edge of consciousness, so Sirius did the only thing left to do - finishing the firewhisky and passing out on the floor against the arm of the sofa as the light turned grey outside.


	2. James

James apparated into Sirius’ apartment with a crack, and almost slipped straight over on a discarded pizza box he’d landed on. It surprised him every time he visited that Sirius hadn’t been able to impose any sort of order on Remus’ chronic messiness. His eyes fell on Sirius, who was slumped against the arm of the sofa, an empty bottle of Firewhiskey sitting innocently on his left. James sincerely hoped he hadn’t been summoned to deal with a fall out. He remembered being caught in the middle of Sirius and Remus back in 5th year, and it had been one of the most miserable experiences of his life.

He gave the sleeping Sirius a half ironic grimace and tiptoed round him to see if Remus was about. Angry Sirius he could cope with, being long in practise and patient in manner, but angry Remus was something else entirely.

He crossed the hallway to the kitchen. No Remus. James let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

There was no noise from the tiny bathroom, so he turned back on himself and went to check Remus’ bedroom.

He knocked on the door. Nothing. James put a hand to the wood and pushed. To his surprise the door swung open. The room was small and bare, with a single bed pushed up into the corner to make way for a minute desk. Both the bed and the desk were covered in stacks of books. James walked over and ran his fingers over the cover of one of the books. His hand came away dusty. Now he looked closely, he could see that some of the books belonged to Sirius: _Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance_ and _Advanced Animagi_ and some funny muggle looking magazine called NME. In the other corner was Sirius’ electric guitar that he’d transfigured from a broom. Next to that, a few boxes, probably the things Remus had inherited from his mother.

A suspicion that James had previously dismissed resurfaced in his mind. Sirius was his best friend. They trusted each other. Remus had always been mysterious to him, but there were no secrets between James and Sirius. James felt guilty for even suspecting. Of course he would know, he wasn’t so oblivious…

His inner monologue hadn’t matched up with his feet, which were marching him towards Sirius’ bedroom. He peered in on Sirius, who was still asleep on the floor, and turned the last twisty corner in the tiny flat.

Jesus Christ.

The door was… well. The door wasn’t there anymore. The stretch of hallway leading to the bedroom looked like a news article or a nightmare. The wallpaper was blackened with curse marks and the air smelt faintly acrid. The carpet at the other end was littered with the wreckage of the door. James looked down. He stomach gave a sickened little lurch. Beneath his feet – he was almost standing on them – were two trails in the wood left by desperate fingernails.

James hurried back to his sleeping friend, more unnerved than he wanted to admit. His mouth felt oddly dry, and the hair on the back of his neck pricked. It was as though the miserable hand of the war had reached in and twisted something James had thought was untouchable.

“Sirius.” He shook his friend’s shoulder roughly. Sirius’s head bounced uncomfortably off the back wall. “Sirius.” He shook Sirius more gently this time and tried to even his voice. Sirius gave a tiny groan. Then he screwed up his face, opened his eyes and, to James’ surprise, grinned that huge, expansive generous Sirius grin that made anyone feel as though they’d been hit by the sun.

“Jaaaames.” Sirius’ voice was merry and slurred. James’ disquiet must have been reflected in his face though, because Sirius caught his gaze and his smile slackened. His hand tightened uncomfortably around James’ wrist and suddenly James was staggering under Sirius’ weight as he tried to pull himself to his feet. They wobbled slightly before Sirius reached out and steadied himself on the wall. Then Sirius was gripping James’ shoulders and James thought for a moment Sirius was about to hug him. But his grip only tightened. His eyes, remarkably sober looking, were roaming around the flat as though he’d lost something.

“James” Sirius repeated, startlingly sober now. His voice was sharp and high. “James.”

James could see the muscles of Sirius’ throat working. His stomach flipped again. Sirius looked for all the world like the boy who had shown up at his door four years ago with a trunk and a question and a face that looked like he had just lost everything. James could feel his unease turning to panic.

“Where is he Sirius.”

Sirius’ face crumpled.

“Sirius.”

James steered him awkwardly to the sofa, Sirius unprotesting in his arms.

“Mate.”

He pushed Sirius down on the sofa and knelt in front of him. He could smell the whiskey on Sirius’ breath. Sirius was still clinging to James’ arms like he’d survived a shipwreck. James had a horrible tilting feeling, like the depths of things were changing. He wished Lily were here.

“Sirius.” His tone was sterner than he’d meant. Thoughts of death eaters were pressing on his mind, but Sirius was still here, unhurt. What the hell happened here, he wanted to demand, but the trick with Sirius was to be gentle. “Mate”, he softened again. “You need to tell me what happened.”

Sirius gave him a look and shook his head slightly, as if to say _I don’t know_. James glared at him, as though they were fourteen and Sirius was refusing to admit that he’d charmed James’ bed to jelly. What if this is a prank, James thought wildly. His palms were sweating.

Sirius gave him a last desperate look, as though he, too, was wishing that whatever he was about to say was a sick joke.

“They’ve taken him.”

“Taken Moony?”

Sirius nodded wretchedly. A silence.

“… You… You Know Who’s taken him?”

James’ voice sounded distant to himself, as though someone else was talking. Sirius shook his head.

“Then who –“

And it all came pouring out from Sirius. They must have got a warrant in advance. There must have been twenty of them. Dawlish. They’d fought, and lost. He was confused. They took him. _He was so confused, James, and they took him_.

Sirius lurched forwards and there was another awkward moment as James tried to hug him, only to be pushed off as Sirius staggered to his feet. He was vibrating slightly, James noticed, a barely-there full body shake.

Saying it out loud seemed to have transformed Sirius. He was pacing, flicking his wand disdainfully at the mess. A book (a scruffy paperback that was undoubtedly Remus’) flew back onto the wonky shelf, the pizza boxes crumpled themselves into the bin, and then Sirius was bounding past James into the hall. James heard the stomach-churning sound of fifty odd pieces of wood fusing themselves back together into a door. He followed Sirius back into the hallway. The door was hanging open again. The cracks of each individual splinter were still visible. James looked at Sirius, pointedly ignoring the way his wand, in his slightly trembling hand, was shaking noticeably. He raised his eyebrow in an old challenge. _Is that the best you can do?_

Sirius waved an arm at James. It seemed to convey the whole hopelessness of the situation.

“What are we going to do?” Sirius demanded. He was looking at James with a furious, freezing intensity. It was the other piece of Sirius, the part which, James imagined, had looked Walburga Black in the eye and told her to go to hell. James was slightly in awe of this part of Sirius, and slightly afraid of it. It was the part he knew he could not match, did not possess. It was the part of Sirius that belonged exclusively to Remus, and… now wasn’t the time. Remus, who was currently who knows where being… James didn’t want to think about it. The vast chasm of things he did not understand was opening under his feet.

James shook his head slightly. He felt woefully unequipped to deal with this situation, but Sirius was looking to him. People had a habit of doing that.

“We’re going to sort this.” James nodded at his own words, hoping he sounded convincing. He looked his best friend in the eye. “We’re going to get him back, Sirius.”

Sirius slumped slightly in relief, or perhaps despair.

“I’ll make us some food okay. Then I’ll call the others. We’re going to figure this out.”

And then the obvious answer hit him like a bludger.

_Idiot. Of course!_

“We should write to Dumbledore!” Relief at his own words spread through him like light. He felt back on solid ground for the first time since he’d apparated into the flat. Reassurances bubbled out of him like Butterbeer.

“He knows about Moony and he has the Ministry in his pocket. Mate, it’s going to be fine. We’ll have him back before we know it.”

Sirius nodded, and gave him a half-hearted smile. James tried to nod reassuringly. Sirius rolled his eyes, as if to let him know that he saw through James’ act, but flicked his wand at the door again. The cracks vanished. James grinned. Sirius smirked back and shook himself like a dog shedding water.

“You got an owl up your arse then, or what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah James, you have to love him. 
> 
> Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance sounds like it's about bikes and hippies, but it's actually more about philosophy. Sirius the secret nerd.
> 
> NME is the most famous British music magazine.


	3. Chapter 3: James

Dumbledore’s reply arrived a few minutes after Peter.

Sirius snatched the scrap of parchment from the owl’s foot with animal speed and read it. His face was blank. He put the letter down, got up and left the kitchen where they had been filling Peter in. A few moments later there was a muffled yell and a thud.

“Shall I…” Peter leaned away off the counter.

James shook his head.

“Give him a minute.”

Peter nodded sagely and began rootling through a cupboard for the teabags. The two of them had long practice of dealing with Sirius’ outbursts. Peter tended to defer to James and do the background work, while James headed off an angry Sirius. This had once involved extinguishing the fire lapping at the bed hangings in their dorm, but usually meant leaving him to it for a bit.

Duly, Sirius emerged a minute later into the doorway of the kitchen. He flung himself in a chair, thrust the parchment under James’ nose, leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes in theatrical calm.

James read the note.

_Mr Black,_

_Don’t do anything rash. I am aware of Mr Lupin’s situation. In this instance, I suggest you make use of your considerable talent for being where you shouldn’t. I have no doubt that Mr Potter and Mr Pettigrew will be of assistance in this._

_Pressing business requires me to remain at Hogwarts at this time, and at any rate, it would not do to alienate the Ministry in the current climate._

_With all good luck,_

_A.P.W.B. Dumbledore_

“It’s not that surprising.”

James jumped nearly out of his skin. Peter had come up behind him noiselessly and was reading over James’ shoulder. He set one of the teas he’d been making down in front of James.

“I mean… he’s not Minister for Magic…”

“Well he bloody should be,” Sirius spat at Peter, slamming a fist on the table. Tea sloshed over the lip of the cup and onto the wood. James felt Peter flinch beside him as Sirius unleashed the full force of his rage on him.

“I just… I just meant…” Peter’s voice had risen to a rat-like squeak. James stared intently at Sirius, but even before he could get his _don’t_ across he saw guilt appear on his friend’s face.

“Sorry Pete.” Sirius smiled, though it looked wolfish and grim in the fluorescent light of the kitchen. Now he thought about it, James wondered why Sirius, who had kept his taste for the extravagant and who possessed a small fortune, had chosen such a dingy flat. From where he was sitting he could see that the corner of the lino nearest the sink had started to come away from the floor.

Peter was falling over himself to keep the peace now, words scurrying over each other in an anxious hurry.

“We’ll have to do it ourselves,” he squeaked. “Guys, come on. It’ll be like the old times. We can plan it like a prank, we can do that better than anyone.”

Sirius spun dramatically on his chair so he was facing Peter directly. There was a horrible moment when James thought Sirius was about start yelling again, but to his surprise Sirius’ face split into a genuine grin.

“Peter!” He sprung up and clasped him on the shoulder. Peter looked alarmed at this sudden change of mood, but a hectic Sirius was better than a sullen one and he gave Sirius a gentle thump in return. James could feel Sirius’ excitement fill the room as Peter flushed with pleasure.

The two of them had turned to him, as though expecting him to say something.

“Right.” James clapped his hands together. “Marauders, let’s do this thing.”

“More tea” Sirius declared, though everyone else’s cups were still full. He flicked his wand at the kettle a little too sharply. The lid popped off, gushing steam from the boiling water.

“Just heat it, don’t transfigure it you berk,” James sighed.

“Sorry” said Sirius, not sounding remotely sorry.

“Okay.” James swallowed the last of his doubts and laid his hands flat on the table, as though this was a counsel of war. Well, said a small voice in his head, perhaps it is. Defying the Ministry for Magic these days was madness. James pushed the thought aside as best he could. This was for Moony. And anyway, they had Dumbledore’s blessing. How bad could things get?

“We’ll need to work out where he is, and then we’ll need to find a way to get him out. Where does the ministry take werewolves?”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“You don’t think…” Peter trailed off before he’d really started.

“Nah” replied Sirius, pouring the water into a ridiculous china teapot Peter had failed to find on the top shelf. “Dumbledore would have said if they were gonna take him to Askaban.”

Peter nodded and looked at Sirius. “Did you guys never…” Peter caught James’ eye, as though looking for reassurance. “I mean… did you not talk about what might happen if… if this… just because you… you know” he gestured feebly at the air. “Live together?”

“No.” Sirius’ tone was very polite. He was looking intensely at the teapot. “We didn’t Wormy. You know what he was like with this stuff at school.” Peter nodded and busied himself with adding sugar to his teacup.

Then, “I just thought…”

James cleared his throat quickly. Peter shot a disgruntled glance at him. _Don’t undermine me._ James tried to look apologetic without Sirius noticing. It failed, of course.

James spoke quickly. “Well, we’ll go to Flourish and Blotts and see what we can find. Maybe check out some old Prophets.” He needed more ideas. “Peter, you can speak to your Gobstones lot at the Ministry.”

“Fine,” Peter mumbled, sipping sullenly at his tea. The ‘Gobstones lot’ were Peter’s other friends, and a point of some contention. James and Sirius had been taken aback and not a little offended to discover their existence in seventh year. If James remembered right, Remus had just shrugged and asked if he’d got to know them through Suzie Bulstrode, who Sirius and James had assumed was made up. None of them were in the Order, they mostly had Ministry jobs now.

James clearly wasn’t the only one to have noticed Peter’s tone. Sirius bristled.

“Remus is missing and you want to get pissy about that lot?” “Sorry.” Peter’s eyes were fixed on his cup, as though he was trying to read the tea leaves. Sirius slumped back in his chair and looked very fleetingly at James with something in his eye that he recognised from that old summer. _It hurts_.

 _I know_. James nodded imperceptibly. He was bursting with a thousand questions, but they would have to wait.

“Peter and I will go to Flourish and Blotts today, okay? Go to mine. Lily has a stack of old Prophets. We can’t plan anything until we know where he is.” It was a rubbish suggestion. It was also the only suggestion. Sirius seemed to realise this. At any rate, he nodded in agreement with the plan.

Peter followed James out into the hallway, opening his mouth indignantly.

“Not here,” James muttered. “Let’s go.”

He twisted in the air, lungs constricting horribly with the crush of apparition. Peter appeared beside him a moment later in the bright afternoon light of Diagon Alley.

“Well, this is fucking terrible,” Peter said emphatically. James nodded. He was about to offer some apology, but Peter continued.

“Look, James. I care about Remus, okay.”

 _Of course_ , James was about to interrupt with, but Peter held up a hand.

“And I care about Sirius too. I know you two are… well, closer, and Sirius and Remus are…”

“Together?” James finished the sentence for him. The word felt strange in his mouth. How had he not known? Moony had always had more secrets than the rest of the Marauders put together, but Sirius…

Peter ploughed on, seemingly unaware that James hadn't known the whole time.

“But I care. I want to help. And you need me. If you don’t want to tell me things, fine, but don’t treat me like I’m stupid.”

Peter fixed him with a gaze that was eerily reminiscent of Sirius when he was in a bad mood. _Go on_ , he seemed to say. _Deny it_.

James shook his head. “I’m sorry, Wormy.”

And just like that Peter smiled. Had it always been this easy, James thought, to make him feel included?

“It’s fine”, Peter said. “Let’s just find him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, sorry guys. Life been a bitch but there's more written up and coming soon. Thank you so much for reading / liking / commenting xx


	4. Sirius

Sirius loved James’ kitchen. Well, it was really Lily’s kitchen, if the neatness of the crockery stacked on the drainer was anything to go by, but it was James’ house. Everything here was familiar, from the clutter of Witch Weekly’s in the downstairs loo to the hangings on the wall – Quidditch photos instead of House Elves. He was sat, out of habit, in the chair he’d always sat in for dinner, ever since he’d run away from home. He could see the chintzy tartan of Fleamont’s old chair silhouetted against the back window. James had kept almost all of his parent’s furniture, the big softie, so the house was unchanged. Sirius smiled slightly, remembering the time they’d charmed the chair full of custard. Fleamont had chased them all round the house for that, waving his soggy carpet slipper.

The click of the lock brought him back to himself. He tried to look busy reading the paper as James, Lily and Peter filed into the kitchen. 

“Any luck,” he asked James. 

James shook his tousled head with a grimace.

“I’ve asked Dorcas,” Lily piped up. She must have seen the look on Sirius’ face, because he elaborated quickly, “I said we wanted to do more, you know. Missions and stuff. But she hasn’t heard from Moody since the Prewetts were killed.” 

Sirius nodded, trying to keep calm. The mention of the Prewetts had set his teeth on edge though. He’d last seen them two months ago at the Leaky Cauldron with Moony, and the four of them had passed a happy few hours comparing their best pranks. Three weeks later they were dead.

There was a silence. Clearly the others were occupied with similar thoughts. Peter looked a slightly green. 

James’ shuffled his feet awkwardly. “How about you mate?” He gestured to the stack of Prophets Sirius was supposed to be combing for information.  
“Err…” Sirius felt bad. In Sirius’ opinion, going through newspaper archives looking for evidence of what the Ministry did to unregistered werewolves was that specific mix of boredom and terror reserved for the precious few missions Moody had sent him on since school ended, and his Muggle Studies OWL. 

“Don’t worry Padfoot,” Peter said. “We’ll help!” 

Sirius bristled slightly at Peter’s cheery tone. He was obviously pleased that it was Sirius who was struggling with something, for once. 

He was right though. He did need their help.

The three of them took seats at the dinner table. Sirius handed over stacks of papers (borrowed from the Ministry archive by Peter). Lily gave him a pitying look as he handed hers over, as though she thought he was too worried to concentrate or something.

Sirius scowled and ducked his head behind a particularly dog-eared paper. What did Lily know about it, he thought angrily. 

That wasn’t fair. Lily and Remus were close, and Sirius was pretty sure Lily knew about the two of them, though she was too kind to say anything. 

Remus had wanted to tell everyone, properly. “It’s a war, Sirius,” he’d said. “There’s no time for secrets.” Sirius had refused. Anyway, Moony had more secrets than the rest of them put together. He’d been right though. The smart bastard. Sirius’ chest hurt thinking about him. He grimaced to himself – he’d been trying to avoid thinking about Moony at all costs.

Sirius thought of Remus almost always, and the days since his disappearance had been no exception. He’d thought of Moony for years, had wanted after him, puzzled over him, dreamt of him at night. Thinking of Remus was a neutral state, like being awake. But thinking about Remus, about his life, his books in Sirius’ flat, their lives together in other people’s eyes… that he tried to avoid.

His eyes didn’t seem to be working properly. The words on the paper were dark shapes on the page. 

The darkness. Sirius’ head in Remus’ arms, the peace of it. Fifty men in the bedroom, watching. He felt the panic rise in him again. He wished desperately for Moony. Remus knew panic, knew the darkness in him, in a way even James didn’t. But Remus wasn’t here, and it was all Sirius’ fault. When it came to it, he’d been powerless.

“Ah!” James shouted in triumph and Sirius nearly dropped the paper he wasn’t reading. 

“What is it.” Peter was bright eyed, expectant. James was grinning like a cat that had the cream.

“This article here.” James spread the paper on the table and began to read it aloud. 

“Disaster for New Minister. The Prophet has received an exclusive tip off that last night, Magical Law Enforcement were called to Clapham Common to contain three unregistered werewolves who had escaped their holding cells. The beasts were reportedly sighted by several Muggles and the Muggle Law Enforcement were first on scene.” James flicked the article across the table to Peter and Sirius. “And then a load of crap about the dangers of werewolves and how the new minister is a load of rubbish. 

“But it’s really old,” Peter said doubtfully. “It says 1954.”

“True,” said Lily, who had stood up and come round behind them to have a look. “But the Ministry’s not exactly quick to modernise. And I doubt they spend their budget this kind of thing.”

“Brilliant,” said James, beaming not across the table at Sirius, but up at Lily. Sirius rolled his eyes theatrically at Peter, as though this was the Great Hall and James was making a fool of himself where he thought Lily might see. 

“Brilliant.” Peter agreed. 

Three pairs of eyes looked expectantly at Sirius. 

“Yeah, nice one mate.” Sirius cleared his throat. He didn’t know where to look. A holding cell. Like a criminal. Guilt and fear tangled inside him, but he kept his face blank. “Let’s just swing by and get him.”

It was Lily who laughed, though not loudly. 

“We need a plan.” Peter nodded seriously. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Sirius couldn’t help himself. Peter shrank into himself, and Lily frowned. James, who clearly had no idea who Sherlock was, nonetheless recognised Sirius’ mood from long years of experience.

“Peter’s right mate.” James stared him down, in his element. “The sooner the better.” He looked up at Lily again and caught her hand. “Darling, would you get the box?”

Lily snorted and caught Sirius’ eye. “I think I was just sick in my mouth a little,” she smirked. “Get your own bloody box.”

James blushed scarlet. “Right you are.” 

“I’ll be back.” With a swish of red hair Lily disappeared upstairs.

“She’s got you good hasn’t she?”

“Shut up Wormtail.” 

Sirius forced himself to join in with the banter.

“Off you pop and get the box dear. Us boys will be working hard, you know.”

James mock scowled and flung open a cupboard. 

“Drinks as well, my lovely,” Peter crowed. Sirius laughed beyond all proportion. He felt slightly lightheaded.

“Shut up, both of you!” James whined as he stomped away to get the case.

“No no, keep going.” Lily had returned with a stack of records.

“Lily you’re a genius!” Sirius exclaimed.

Lily just smiled, weighing the sleeves in her hands in deliberation. Sirius was about to make a suggestion but Lily spotted him and shook her head as if to say, don’t you dare. She snatched up an LP and followed James through the glass door to the living room. There was a pleasant whirr, a crackle and then the opening beats of ‘Five Years’ filled the air. 

“Nice one, Lils,” James had returned with the case of books they had ‘liberated’ from the library in sixth year. Sirius wondered if Fleamont had ever known about it. James began handing out books out. Sirius got a small but very dry book entitled Invisible Majesty: A Survey of Concealed Magical Architecture. He shuddered slightly, it was the sort of bollocks his parents had kept.

“Why the hell did we steal this one?” he asked.

James grinned. “If I recall correctly, some of us got a bit carried away.”

Sirius nodded his head in agreement and smiled at the memory. What had begun as a collective Marauder effort had turned into something of a competition between Remus and Sirius. Remus had won, he’d had a natural talent for theft that Sirius, accepting defeat ungraciously, had teased him mercilessly for it.

Lily wasn’t smiling though. She was looking at James, and her eyes were round as saucers. 

“James Potter,” she spluttered, hands on hips. “Do you mean to tell me you STOLE all these books!”

James opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Peter and Sirius burst out laughing. 

“You told me McGonagall had given you special permission.”

“Sorry Lily,” James looked sheepish but pleased. Lily was smiling too. She shook her head in exasperation. 

“Bloody boys,” she said, cracking open her stolen book.

They sat like that for several hours. The sun had gone down by the time Peter’s stomach began to growl. 

“There’s snacks in the cupboard,” Lily said from behind another newspaper. 

Peter stood up. 

“Oi, Pete…” Sirius began, before a bag of crisps hit him in the head.

“Tosser.”

“Dickhead.” 

“Prat.”

“Children,” Lily interrupted, not without a smile.

Peter returned to the table and showered bags of crisps all over the books. Unfortunately, James and Sirius spotted the last bag of Worcester Sauce at the same time, and began a silent but intense scuffle for it.

“Bugger!” James swore as the box of books feel to the floor and sprung open, spilling books all over the tiles.

Sirius glared at him, and James mouthed a ‘sorry’. Lily’s mouth was a thin line.

Peter, oblivious, bent down and began shoving books back in the book. Sirius felt a little sorry for him.

Suddenly, Peter shouted. “Hey, I have something.” His flushed face peeked back over the table top. “A book we could use.”

Everyone gathered round.

“It just fell open on the page, I can’t believe it.” Peter was stumbling over his words, pleased to be at the centre. “It’s old, like twenty years ago. But it says there was an escape from a Ministry holding facility behind the Courthouse Hotel in Soho.” He pointed to a paragraph at the bottom of the page. “Look! It took three days for them to catch them all, it was a big scandal.”

“Oh yeah…” Lily said absently, as though remembering something. 

“Peter you lucky bastard.” Sirius could have hugged him. 

“Nice one mate.” James was ruffling Peter’s hair. Peter looked delighted. 

Lily began talking a mile a minute about a book she’d read that mentioned the break out, now she thought about it, how there were radical efforts to harbour the werewolves that had escaped but they were found, and James was beaming with the sort of pride that Sirius usually felt was patronising but instead he was leaping in with his own suggestion and soon they were all on the floor, scribbling on parchments and munching on crisps. Sirius was giddy with excitement about having a plan. They were going to get Moony back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Lily and Remus were horrified that, when introduced to Walker's crisps, James and Sirius went for Worcester Sauce as the gold standard.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt for the Wolfstar Hurtfest over on tumblr, but I missed the deadline by a mile. If anyone knows how to link this fic to the challenge or get it to the person who sent the prompt I'd love to know!


End file.
